


Ningyo

by TooManyPsuedonyms



Series: Mobile Thoughts [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Empathy Abilities, Japanese Inspired Legends, Little Mermaid, M/M, One-Shot, Unnamed Characters until the Very End, Vagueness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 03:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyPsuedonyms/pseuds/TooManyPsuedonyms
Summary: There is a legend in Japan that says eating the flesh of a mermaid can grant eternal youth... and Hannibal was not one to shy away from plating his table with exotic meats.





	Ningyo

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I wrote on my phone that was a long series of studies about the intricate relationship between Hannibal and Will--as well as infusing several cultural and ideological ideas that just collect dust in my brain. Why not weave them together into barely connected themes for the internet to enjoy?

He is curiously tanned, tall, with his hair that's been slicked back from the freezing water. It's pale, bleached by the sun and light by genetics, more than likely. It clings in tendrils across cheekbones sharp enough to carve stone.

 

The mer-creature lets his webbed digits trace the line of his jaw. He pushes back one long lock that stuck to soft eyelashes. Then, with a startling speed, a pale wrist is captured by large and tanned hands. The grip is strong, brutal, in a way that is too reminiscent of the crushing force of the sea. The mer-creature's heart stutters and tries to yank itself free.

 

The eyelids of the human blink open--calm as if he doesn't have a mythical creature in his grasp. The light is dim in the grotto, but, the color is a soft sea-glass. Immediately, the creature feels calmed. The color is familiar in a way, and so, he feels less in danger.

 

Still. Humans cannot be trusted.

 

The human struggles to sit up--but never releases the thin wrist in his board palm. Eventually, he is somewhat upright, and studying his surroundings. It's slightly irritating, the mer-creature expected more of a reaction from the human just saved from a sudden tempest but...

 

The emotions rolling off of him...? Off this perplexing human, are strange. Wondrous, almost. He's obviously curious--but one does not need empathy to see in the way his eyes dart around the glittering, cramped walls. This is a place the creature often spends its time in. Slinking around the wreckage sites and collecting various items of the human's world above. Trying to understand the draw to a world that's only ever tried to harm creatures of the deep. The human eventually turns eyes to its captive.

 

Finally, a flash of surprise, and the mer-creature flinches. Emotions run through stronger with direct contact. Vainly, weakly, the creature twists his hand. After a moment--a static taste to the back of his tongue that is reluctance, but flavored with certainty--the fingers pry themselves away. The mer-creature wants to sink back into the water, hide somewhere in the reef below... but... instead, just lowers slightly, tail swishing anxiously.

 

The human watches the creature, particularly noting the gills at the neck that are soothed in the soft laps of ocean water.

 

"So... you do exist," the human's voice is thick, and the creature finds an instant pleasure in it. It's echoes, deep and too calm. Reminds him of the sad requiems of whale pods that cross the vast expanse of the sea. Those that know they are the last of their kind... "Can you speak?"

 

The creature averts his dark eyes and rises, mouth opening. The human waits. The creature--yes--understands. Has heard various languages, and with empathic abilities so great, learned some vague phrases.

 

"Not... so many words...?" comes out, slightly questioning. But, the meaning is clear enough. The human brightens considerably. The mer-creature recedes into liquid safety, heart skipping a beat. The emotion in the air is palpable excitement.

 

"I am Dr. Hannibal Lector," the human is graceful, extending a hand and a too-easy smile that the mer-creature knows to be in-genuine. The protective spines along the dorsal spike and claws glint dangerously in retaliation to the human--Hannibal Lector? The human is quick, and shuffles along the rocky edge of the above-water portion of the grotto. Water drips off his clothes as he sets his hands out of reach. "Excuse my enthusiasm... I have been looking for you for a long time."

 

The feeling in the air has turned cautious and the creature vaguely recognizes barred fangs showing in a sort of survival instinct. Hannibal is a clever predator. The creature shakes it off and slinks closer, despite knowing better. There is something simply intriguing in the human... Hannibal _looks_ human enough. The way he _feels_ however...?

 

"You...?" The creature softly parrots.

 

"Mermaids," Hannibal says, unperturbed by what should be a clearly threatening thing before him. The creature lifts onto the rock, attempting to gage the human's emotions through closer contact. Hannibal's glass-like eyes cut across the creature's body in a way that is almost... physical. Like, a dissection. The creature can taste the wanton desire and it freezes, aware that closeness was a mistake. "Well, merman it seems."

 

"Creature."

 

"Pardon?" Hannibal says, and the ease at which he rests says little.

 

"I... am creature," the mer(man) tries to repeat phrasing to better communicate with the human before him. Hannibal merely tilts his head.

 

"As am I," he responds, a mysterious smile tilting the corners of his mouth, "Aren't we all a creature on God's Earth?"

 

The mer-creature wrinkles his forehead in thought, determined to follow this odd human's challenging speech. However, only amusement lingers under something heavier in the air. The creature tsks, coming to realize the human seems to be playing some sort of game with cryptic words.

 

"Wait," is all he says before splashing into the dark abyss below. The mer(man?) swims in undulations in the depths--locating a favorite sleeping hovel easily. Long fingers snatch one of his more prized possessions, and quickly spins back upwards.

 

By the time the creature has burst the surface, the human stood. Hannibal had surveyed his surroundings. Obviously entranced by the hanging chimes and jewels and pearls--shattered mirror pieces meant to catch light and scatter across the surface. Some items are shoved into the facets of the cave walls, and the creature eyes them fondly. Skulls, flowers, piano keys, paintings, light bulbs, and anything else that caught curious eyes on the sunken masses of the ocean floor. It's amazing what humans throw away.

 

The merman offers his possession to the human, who has stopped his studying and taken to sitting at the edge of the sloping rock. "Creature," is repeated, with a stubbornness.

 

Hannibal plucks the rectangular cartridge. The warped picture causes a strange noise to erupt from the human.

 

" _The Creature from the Black Lagoon_..." Hannibal reads, but does not move to give it back to the creature. Frowning, the only thing to do is fold arms on the outcropping of rock and... pout? Yes. The emotion coming solely from the creature is a distinct lack of enjoyment. A sufferable thing. The human, however, has the barest hints of the opposite. But...something is growing. Which causes a confusion for the creature. "This is a... monster movie."

 

The creature tilts its head. The word has a ring to it. It's possible this word is not new, but has a different feel as it’s said, "Monster?"

 

Hannibal pauses. The air has a dense layer of what can only be described as o-zone. The taste of a deadly shock of lightening. He crouches eye level, holding out the creature's possession. "Yes, monster. A thing terrible, awful, and... well, it is not a good creature."

 

The creature only sneaks a glance at sea-glass eyes. "I... am monster?"

 

"Do you think of yourself as a monster?"

 

The creature looks down, sees the difference between the human and him... the paleness, the shine, the webbing, the scales scattered along flesh... Hannibal only waits, expectant. Yet--

 

"Are you human?"

 

Hannibal blinks. That same noise from earlier leaves his mouth. The creature is both awed and terrified of having elicited it. For Hannibal Lector it is foreign, but nonetheless, a true sound only the creature has brought out of him. At least, that is the way it tastes. Most humans, should they have glimpsed the creature, normally leave the feeling of bewilderment or, more appropriately, horror.

 

"I suppose I am as human as you are monstrous," Hannibal responds. The creature hears the playfulness, but feels humor creep along the edges of the grotto in a way more disturbing than comforting. "You saved me, yes?"

 

The creature nods.

 

"Have you no name?"

 

Again, the creature nods.

 

"I see," Hannibal looks down at the possession in his large hands, "if I remember correctly... the hero of this story was named... William?"

 

The creature wrinkles it's nose, snatching the possession back. Hannibal has a hint of menace at the rude action--which causes the creature to further yield into the water. Should the human attack, the chance of success will certainly decline in an unnatural element. However, the human calms and the walls only reverberate back a damp emptiness resonating from him. The creature picks at the edge of his newly-named Monster Movie before reaching a decision.

 

"Will."

 

"Will?" Hannibal does the parroting this time. The creature licks its lips in careful consideration as sea-glass eyes watch from the rocks. Too intelligent eyes.

 

"I like... Will."

 

"Then I shall call you Will," Hannibal nods his head in way that reminds Will of a gracious bow. "After all, monsters do not have names."

 

Will watches as that in-genuine smile returns to the human's face. There seems to be a lie somewhere, licking at the back of his brain. "Hannibal Lector?"

 

"Hannibal, please," the human says.

 

"Monsters don't have names."

 

Hannibal makes that sound again in response to the words--Will later learns it's laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


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